Bebop Redemption
by Hypergate Studios
Summary: The story follows Faye Valentine after Spike's death. If you think that you will enjoy the story, I recommend that you download the pdf. from Hypergate Studios' website: spacecowboy.tv, which has accompanying artwork.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Moments before Spikes death_

_Why did he have to go,_ the woman thought as the buildings flew by below her. The sky began to grow pink with the beginnings of a sunrise as she pushed the ship to its breaking point. _I can't let him do this!_

The video monitor blinded her as it flickered to life in the dim cockpit. "Faye, what the hell are you doing!"

"I can't let him do this!" Faye Valentine screamed. Jet's portrait had just appeared looking a mix between furious and terrified. "He doesn't have to die for her."

"He has to do what he thinks is right and you and I can't …"

"And I have to do what I think is right!" she interrupted. She could feel the heat on her face as she screamed at Jet. What was he was saying? How could he just sit in the Bebop and wait while Spike went on a suicide mission. "You and I know that a past isn't worth dying for."

This seemed to quiet Jet for the time being. Faye was sure she had hit the mark with that statement. No doubt Jet was thinking of his own past while staring at the reflection in his prosthetic arm. It was true, they were all cursed with a dangerous history and had been threatened by that history at one time or another, but none of them thought about storming the Red Dragon's headquarters to satisfy it!

Everything was falling apart.

"Well, that may be true but it doesn't mean you can just steal the Hammerhe-" She cut him off with the flick of a switch.

This was not the time to get into whose ship she had stolen. _This was an emergency, doesn't Jet understand that?_ No. No one seemed to understand it but her. _Jet just sat there and watched him leave. At least I tried to stop him. Why doesn't he get it?_

_Why did he go?_

A knot began to form in the pit of her stomach, _what if I'm too late? _She couldn't do anything about the feeling other than to simply keep going. _I'm almost there_, she thought, _just a few more miles…_

The Hammerhead descended erratically into the streets of Mars City. The building that the Red Dragons used as their headquarters looked like it had been through a small war with entire floors missing including the top floor. As she descended, she could see a small crowd gathering on what was left of the top floor. _That must be where Spike is._

The glass in the streets sparkled and blew away as Faye brought Jet's ship in for a hasty landing. The Hammerhead groaned and she felt one of the landing supports buckle while the ship slammed onto the street. She wasn't concerned. In fact, all her attention was fixed on what remained of the building's lobby.

_This feels wrong_, the knot in her stomach tightened. The hatch to the Hammerhead opened and time began to slow, yet her heart beat faster as she hopped out of the cockpit and off the ladder.

She could see more clearly into the lobby now and her bad feeling turned into dread. Bodies littered the ground all around the perimeter of the building. _Good,_ she smirked to herself, trying to calm her nerves; _maybe Spike got the action he wanted._

She ran hard towards the building, ignoring the burning in her legs and the fatigue in her mind. She hadn't slept for days. She was used to a lack of sleep, but this emotional rollercoaster that Spike was sending her on made her feel like she had been awake for weeks.

A tear blurred her vision and she blinked it away.

"He's gonna pay for the trouble he's causing me when I find him," she hardly believed the words as she muttered them to herself. She just couldn't ignore the bad feeling in her stomach.

It was like old times, just barreling into a building with a poor plan, a gun and a team beside you; except there was no team this time. _That's why I'm doing this,_ the reassuring voice reminded her, _you finally found your family, don't let it slip away._

The top floor of the Red Dragon Headquarters finally came into view after what seemed like miles of stairs. She ran unhindered by any guards as she made her ascent. _Spike made sure of that,_ she thought. No doubt he had caused most of the damage to this war zone.

The stairs opened up into the vast ruins of what appeared to be the remainder of the Red Dragon's throne room. Faye noted at least 20 guards standing on the second terrace of the roofless room. After seeing them she quickly made her way to the side of the stairs to find cover and took refuge behind what must have been part of a wall before the rest of it was destroyed.

_Spike must be up there._

She reached for her gun and noticed that her hands were shaking. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as another tear began to form in the corner of her eye. _It's ok, your in time, just get it together so you can go help him._

She drew upon her bounty hunter instincts and made her mind compartmentalize the situation. _He's just another bounty that needs to be taken alive,_ she thought, _just get up there and get him before the guards do._

Her eyes opened and she knew what had to be done. She reached for her gun, a steady hand this time, and peered around the side of her cover.

_The guards aren't even looking this way; _she smiled to herself, _Ha! They're not going to know what hit 'em. S_lowly stalking from behind her cover, she readied her pistol to shoot the first unfortunate sentry to look her way.

Moisture built up in her eyes once more.

Faye's blurred vision couldn't see what it was that they were looking at, but from the way the guards were standing it was up the staircase at the top of the room.

_Good,_ she thought, _whatever it is seems to be distracting them_. She found more cover, this time behind one of the larger chunks of ceiling that had fallen down. Her mind took a moment and calculated her odds: at least 20:1, yet she had the element of surprise on her side. _I can do this,_ she thought and her bounty hunter instinct took over. _Of course you can, stop thinking about it._

She hardened her face; she was going to have to move fast. There would be only enough time for two or three shots at the most before the surprise wore off and then she would be hard pressed to find a defensible position.

As hard as she fought back the tears, they still partially robbed her of her vision. She blinked and shook her head trying to force the blur out of her eyes, it didn't help. Unsatisfied with the results, she decided that she would just have to fight a blurry battle and looked back up at the group of guards.

Her heart skipped a beat and she paused. Not everyone was looking away from her. There was a single man on the stairs, the man all of the guards were staring at. Her eyes widened with shock, _he's pointing at me!_ If she was going to do this she had to do it fast, whoever this guy was he was going to put an end to her surprise attack.

But the feeling in her stomach held her in place, something was wrong. Though the man pointed at her the guards didn't move; they just stared.

Another tear escaped her eye. _What's wrong with me,_ she rubbed the tears away with the palms of her hand. When she opened her eyes again her vision finally cleared; she froze as she looked up at the man on the stairs.

His hand was down but his body crumbled to the floor with a thud, his bushy head coming to rest on the stairs. Faye's stomach gave one final, agonizing twist as she caught a glimpse of the man's bloodied face…

_Spike!_

Suddenly, the guards were not important; she didn't care about her surprise attack. "Spike!" she screamed and the guards finally turned to regard her, but Faye didn't notice.

Her legs carried her as fast as they could up the stairs and past the guards to the steps where Spike had fallen. Dropping her gun, she knelt down and rolled his torn body into her arms. She rested his head in the crook of her elbow and held his body close to hers.

"Spike," she whispered trying to say more but not able to find the words or the air to speak. _Don't leave me, _she sat there, hugging the broken body of her partner, her friend, and the closest thing she had ever had to family. She watched it all fade away in the dimness of his eyes. The rising sunlight brushed across his face and she began to cry.

_I hope you found what you were looking for…_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_The Life of the Assassin_

It was raining that night. That was the way the Assassin preferred to hunt. The dark clouds above her blocked out the stars of the night sky and allowed her to move across the rooftops, virtually invisible to the eyes of the street. She currently sat on the ledge of a tall building like a gargoyle watching the activity below; each raindrop reverberated in the Assassin's ears as it struck the black hood of her raincoat. Sitting in a state of complete silence and stillness, she watched from her rooftop vantage point as the constant flow of traffic diminished into a slow trickle and the night progressed in the streets below.

Her eyes constantly scanned up and down the street, always pausing at the front of the restaurant a block away and, as she had done countless times before, the Assassin waited with her sniper rifle held tightly against her body. Without moving anything except her eyes, she checked the watch on her wrist.

_11:58,_ the hunt was almost complete. The slightest feeling of excitement passed through her body and she allowed a small smile to grace her otherwise stoic face. This was what she lived for. In a bounty hunter's life, catching the bounty was always one of the more exciting parts, but what she was doing now had a much different feel to it. These were no longer just bounties; there was something more primal to the hunt now.

A lone vehicle turned on to the street that the Assassin was watching and immediately killed their headlights in the darkness to avoid detection, but it was too late to fool the Assassin. She subtly checked her watch once more.

_12:00_

_It's time_, she thought, and she proceeded with the ritual that had been done dozens of times before. Bringing the scope of the rifle up to her eye, she blinked through the green glow of the infrared and watched the driver, of what she was able to confirm as a limousine, move the car closer to the front of the restaurant she had been watching. She slipped a single bullet out of her belt and inserted it into the rifle chamber; all that she would need.

As she had suspected, the limo stopped in front of the restaurant and two men in dark suites exited the back doors on either side of the car. Looking around cautiously in the rain, they had no chance of seeing the lone Assassin and her rifle on the tall building a block away.

_Three_, she thought,_ there are always three, two bodyguards and the mark_. The bodyguards always exited the car first to scan the immediate area around the limousine, and the Assassin would always chuckle to herself. Though the strategy had failed countless times before, the ritualistic security of the Red Dragon remnants never changed.

And it happened the same way it had all those other times. Each guard gave his "all clear" sign and the mark timidly stepped out of the car. She adjusted her sight and brought the man's head into the center of her scope. Her deceptively delicate finger rested lightly on the trigger and she steadied her breathing.

The thrill of the chase was culminating now. She had felt this many times as a bounty hunter, but it was different now. The chase was no longer about the thrill or the bounty or the money. There was something much simpler that Faye Valentine strived for now: _revenge_.

She squeezed the trigger and blinked as she let the sound of the explosion ring in her ears. The guards could only watch in horror as the man fell limply onto the wet pavement. They took cover behind the limo and frantically searched the skyline for the unseen gunman, but it was far too late. Faye was gone.

The journey back to her single room apartment had been uneventful and her raincoat made it easy to conceal her four foot long rifle. The hits got easier every time; she had begun to learn the back alleys of Mars City a little better and the best ways to lose a tracker, if there ever was one, and each time the bodyguards heard of one more assassination their morale dropped lower and lower. She rarely had to worry about being chased by the guards; her shear presence had stopped the pursuers cold. And each time it became a little bit easier to find that perfect hiding spot and to create the plan of attack.

The hardest part was pulling the trigger. Each bullet that left her gun carried with it the pain that she had felt over the past few months and each Red Dragon that hit the ground brought to her a new feeling of remorse. She survived by not thinking about it too often.

She climbed the stairs of the apartment building and briskly walked down to the end of the hall where her apartment waited. Faye had taken to a utilitarian lifestyle since the death of Spike, she was reminded of it every time that she walked across the threshold of her apartment. As the five locks on the door clicked shut, Faye replaced the key into the tight pocket of her white pants, pulled out one of her pistols and scanned the room for anything that may have been moved out of place during her absence.

The advantage of have few possessions and a one room apartment was that there were few places for an intruder to hide and few objects of which to keep track. The room began in a small, barren entryway leading into the main room. Before proceeding into the larger area, she peeked through the bathroom door on her right, flicked on the light switch and took a quick scan of her simple, yet clean bathroom with a small stand-up shower.

She glared at the shower and sighed. It was after nights like tonight that she wished she were back on the Bebop and soaking in the warm water of the bathtub, even if the tub was dirty. She quickly shook the thought away, this was no time to reminisce; she needed to complete her patrol of the apartment. She closed the bathroom door and moved on into the main room.

Between two barred and curtained windows on the far wall from the door sat a simple cot with a single blanket that would have looked more appropriate in a military barracks rather than in the apartment of a woman known for her love of life's finer comforts. The stiff bed paralleled a small view-screen set on a rickety table that looked as if a single heavy book would buckle its spindly metal legs. To the side of the cot, situated in the corner of the room was the punching bag and it was, by Faye's reckoning, the most frequently used object in the room.

Her eyes scanned the desk on the far wall as she walked in which served as her homemade gun maintenance shop. She preferred to keep a low profile in the city and she felt that bringing a sniper rifle to a gunsmith every week for cleaning and repairs was not the best way to do it. Along with assorted spare parts and rifling tools, the desk was a miniature assembly line for bullets and small explosives with boxes of used shell casings and gun powder littered the table and the area around it.

The wall above her desk was the only place where she allowed herself to feel remorse for the work she had done over the past months. It was covered in a large corkboard which Faye had collaged with the faces of all the people connected to the Red Dragons; that she knew of. Many of the faces were mug-shots that she had hacked out of the Inter Solar System Police database, others were surveillance shots that she had received from those that made gathering information their forte, and others were simple drawings that Faye had created based on rumors and personal descriptions. More than half of the portraits had been X'ed out by a red marker to indicate that the owner to the face had been eliminated. The board was crude, but it kept her on track of where she was going and it didn't let her forget those that she had killed.

The room turned another corner into a narrow kitchen featuring a virtually unused stove, sink and refrigerator save for the scattered boxes of take-out food in its shelves. The cupboards held a few dusty plates and a healthy supply of canned goods and dry rations. Faye found that she was too busy or tired to cook most nights and, since she wasn't very good at it, decided to give it up all together. The oven had also been broken for weeks now, making cold leftovers and unheated canned produce a regular occurrence.

She gave a small sigh of relief and replaced her pistol into its holster after searching the apartment to her satisfaction. She felt safe in her apartment, but being careful was something that came with the job of hunting down the leaders of an organized crime syndicate. Depositing her dripping raincoat onto the hooks next to the door, Faye made her way over to the wall of pictures and stared up at the same face that she had viewed through the scope of her sniper rifle earlier that night.

"Takeya Yamaguchi" was the caption on the bottom of the mug-shot. Faye knew very little about him; only that during the height of the Red Dragons he had been involved in the leaching of money from local businesses in the city to finance the organized crime syndicate, and had been arrested twice for extortion but never convicted. She uncapped the pen in her hand and drew two crossing red lines through the man's face.

Her eyes moistened as she thought about what her life had become, a wall covered in the faces of dead men. She would always remind herself, _this is the life that you chose after Spike died, they can't be allowed to hurt others like they hurt us_. But then a realization struck her, _"us"_ she thought, _I haven't seen or heard from Ed in over three months, Jet hardly supports what I'm doing, and Spike…_ I sad cough escaped her lips and she scowled at the ground, _now you can't start crying every time you think of him, pull it together._ She quickly wiped the short trail of tears from her cheek and checked her watch:

_2:23 AM_.

Her exhaustion suddenly hit her; it was too late to think about those things. She groggily made her way over to her stiff cot and laid down, pulling the thin blanket over her. She watched the fan make a few rotations before her eyes blurred and she let her strained emotions and body rest.

"…_the accident left thirteen wounded and one woman dead. – In other news: a body was found in the streets of Mars City this morning. ISSP has yet to release the victim's name but one witness told CBC News that he recognized the man as a well known businessman in the city._

'_Yeah I seen him down here all the time. He's always eatin' at Takeda's restaurant next to my shop. I can't believe someone killed him…'_

"_ISSP did give us these details: he died at approximately 12:30 last night and police say this is not the only case like this that they are investigating. According to ISSP, this latest homicide may be linked to many others that have occurred in Mars City in recent months. Are we in the midst of a serial killer? We'll hear from the experts…"_

Faye sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. The morning light shining through the slits of the window blinds bathed the otherwise darkened room in parallel lines of weak light. She glanced at the watch still remaining on her wrist from the night before: 8:04 AM. Her eyes raised to the view-screen, now blaring a commercial for a new energy drink, the message in the bottom corner flashed: "-ALARM 8:00 AM – ALARM 8:00 AM – ALARM 8:00 AM…" She slid her still booted feet off of her cot and onto the floor, stretching her arms into the air trying to ward off the grogginess that plagued her.

After a cold breakfast of at-least-three-day-old takeout and a quick shower to cleanse her of the night before, she slipped on her red coat and headed out the door.

_Late again,_ she thought, _I'm not looking forward to more long winded speeches._

"… I don't know how things were at those other casinos you worked at, but we here at Lucky Cowboy's expect you to be on time _everyday_ Ms. Valentine!" the floor manager of the casino rambled on for the third time this month. Taro Matsuda was a tall, bulky man with an intimidating black goatee. Though he always wore a custom tailored business suit to work, one couldn't help but picture him more appropriately dressed in a wrestler's leotard, ready to throw a dwarfed competitor over his head. His unique stature and trademark goatee allowed the casino floor manager to double as the head of security for the small casino on the edge of the gambling district. Presently, he was performing his floor manager duties and lecturing a bored Faye about her tardiness.

"When I told you last time to be at your table by 8:00 A.M., it didn't mean do it for a few days and you get the next morning off!" the giant man yelled down at Faye, who was a full foot short than her supervisor.

Faye Valentine kept her eyes fixed on the hulking figure towering over her. This was neither the first nor the last time that she had heard this lecture and she had gotten used to the man's rants weeks ago; she was far from intimidated. The fact was that Lucky Cowboy's Bar & Casino made a handsome profit by stealing money from its customers. This was nothing new in the gaming district of Mars City, the tables in most of the casinos were fixed or weighted in some way to insure that no one won more than the casino was willing to give.

What separated Lucky Cowboy's from every other crooked table was Faye's unmatched card-sharking expertise. Not only did she fleece more money off of her customers than any other dealer at the casino, the players never suspected a thing. In fact, most of the men came back to her table the next night, continuing to flirt with the woman and ogle her curvaceous figure. No, Faye wasn't worried.

Still glaring at the cold stare of Faye, Mr. Matsuda gave a low sigh that seemed to alleviate his anger and relax his aggressive posture. "Faye…" his voice settling into a softer tone. Then the moment came that justified her confidence and allowed the woman to sit there with a smug expression on her face. "You know as well as I do that we can't afford to let you go, but you can't keep coming in late like this. Hell, we even tried docking your hours to show you we were serious until some of the customers requested you back," he chuckled to himself, "your just too talented for your own good."

"It's the fans that make the star, Taro," using her most light and playful voice and making sure to use his first name to let him and those listening know that the scolding hadn't phased her. "I'll see what I can do in the future, but I can't make any promises." Faye turned and walked away, giving an uncaring backhand wave to an incredulous looking 220 lbs man.

It was going to be a long day.

The casino served two purposes in Faye's life: to give her enough money to scrape by and to gather information about the lingering Red Dragons from the seedy businessmen that graced her table. There were hundreds of rumors floating around the city regarding the mysterious crime syndicate and it took Faye half the day to sort through the ones that made their way into the Lucky Cowboy and pick out the tips that could possibly lead her to her goal. The bartender, a woman named Nadia, had been the most successful at getting good leads and Faye had paid her handsomely for them, almost half of her paycheck each week. The fee was also to ensure that the bartender didn't start telling her customers that there was a woman working there that was interested in any information about the Red Dragons. Nadia assured her that it would never happen.

"Just had a man at my bar tell me he's scheduled to escort someone tomorrow night. I figured he was a bodyguard so I gave him the usual," Faye knew that the usual meant free drinks until you couldn't feel you lips talking, "and before he knew it, he told me he was going to be down by the Eastside Docks at around 11 pm tomorrow if I wanted to stop by for a quickie before he started work." Nadia finished, giving Faye a shared smirk. They weren't close friends, hardly talking outside of the casino, but both knew that they shared a very effective common weapon, their curves. "Sounded like he may be a newbie, he seemed kind of nervous about this job tomorrow," Nadia added, "his hands were shakin' a bit."

Faye was a little disappointed to hear that. The new bodyguards were always put with the small lieutenants, which meant that tomorrow night would just be another small blow to the Red Dragons.

"Thanks," Faye spoke softly so that only Nadia could hear, then raising her voice as she stood up from the table where the two women had been sitting, "yeah, I know I'm not special Nadia, I'll try to be here on time." She turned to walk away from the table, giving Nadia a very small grin. "God, it's like I've got two bosses breathing down my neck all the time."

Another sniper job, another night spent on a rooftop. Faye sighed to herself as she started her climb up the stairs to the top of the building adjacent to the Eastside Docks, a picked lock and a hacked security system behind her. The hunt was becoming tedious these days. Her goal was to make the Red Dragons suffer for what they had done, but each one she assassinated seemed to be replaced within days, and the rumors and leads that she got hardly ever pertained to anything higher than low lieutenants. She knew there was the beginnings of a new high council controlling the Dragons, she just had no idea how to find them, and finding them was going to be the hardest part.

She was confident in her abilities once she found them. Her assassination skills had been honed during the past few months to the point where she was now practically invisible. None of her targets ever saw their death approaching and none of the guards saw her as she left. She had it down to a science.

But each stair that passed underfoot reminded her of the monotony that this science had brought. _Is it worth it?_ she thought, _does the high council even notice the thorn I put in their side?_ Her thoughts focused as they fell on Spike. _It doesn't matter how I feel, this is what has to be done. I can't stop, not until the Red Dragons are gone and my job is done_.

Faye's eyes looked up the stairs with new purpose cemented in them. She adjusted the strap of her rifle to secure it to her back and began a brisk jog up the rest of the stairs, red jacket sweeping out behind her as she ran up the last set towards the rooftop door.

Cool air blushed her cheeks as she quietly made her way out of the stairwell towards the lip of the building. The night was clear but no moonlight graces the surface of Mars so Faye still felt secure at her dark perch. The only sounds she could hear where the engines of distant airships and the water slopping against the side of the docks. She took a quick scan of the dock where Nadia said that the bodyguard would be but couldn't see anyone. Taking her eyes off of the dock, she checked her watch.

_10:41_

She slipped the rifle off of her shoulder and propped it up on the short wall surrounding the roof. Crouching down, she gazed over the edge of the wall and waited.

A few minutes later, Faye heard a car driving in from the opposite side of the docks. _A little early, _she thought. She squinted through the darkness but couldn't make out any details about the car. Figuring that it was most likely the standard issue limousine that all the lieutenants were transported in, she readied her rifle and peered through the infrared scope at the distant car. Through the enhancement of the scope, the assassin could see that the car was a simple black sedan and only two men got out of the car, both burly looking and with the telltale bulge of a sidearm on the sides of their coats leaving no doubt that they were simple bodyguards. _But where is the mark?_

Another car pulled up next to the first soon after. _That's odd, _she thought, _the bodyguards and the mark never come in two separate cars._ But she was fooled once again; the doors to the recently arrived car opened and two more guards stepped out, straightening their jackets. Moments later, a third and fourth identical car pulled into the docks and two more guards exited from each sedan.

_Eight guards?_ She felt anxiety begin to nip at her from the edges of her mind. Her heart began to beat louder and the sounds of the airships seemed to press in on her ears. This wasn't some low level lieutenant; it couldn't be, not with eight guards! Her anxiety mixed with excitement. Maybe this was it, a member of the high council! Whoever it was, the Red Dragons didn't want to loose them. The excitement completely overtook her anxiety; this was exactly what she was looking for, a real blow to the Red Dragons and she stumbled upon it unwittingly. _So where is he? _She scanned the entrances to the docks, looking for the limousine that would be carrying the V.I.P, the sounds of the world around her humming in her ears.

Suddenly, she could pick out the sound of a single airship amongst the background noise. The buzz of the engines grew into a deafening roar and she turned to see a small transport ship pass directly above her. The landing lights on the ship illuminated her as it passed by and she pressed herself down against the wall to shield herself from the eyes of the upward gazing bodyguards.

After she heard the landing supports touch down, she brought her rifle up and rested her support arm on the top of the wall; she didn't want to miss her shot. The scene she saw through the glow of her night-vision scope pushed the anxiety back into her mind. There were now only six guards making two lines of three on either side of a ramp that had been extended from the transport. She could almost see their hands shaking at their sides while they tried to stand as tall as possible; each one looking nervously up the ramp.

A single cloaked figure moved down the ramp with such grace, Faye wondered if the person was hovering. The cowl of the cloak obscured the face of the V.I.P. but she could tell that whoever this person was, the bodyguards were visibly frightened. Faye slipped a bullet from her belt and began to place it in the chamber of her sniper rifle; whoever it was, they would be dead soon enough.

The cloaked figure stopped in the middle of the six guards and Faye heard a voice carry up from the group of Red Dragons that made her pause, a woman's voice. It was beautiful, almost sounding melodic, yet something told Faye that she should dread hearing it. "You are no longer needed," spoke the darkened face of the mysterious figure. The guards looked at each other, wondering if they were being released from this duty that they obviously felt was torture.

Yet in a flash, her intentions were clear. The cloaked woman flung her arms out of the long sleeves of the cloaks and, in the same instant, daggers appeared from the chests of two of the guards. Before the remaining four even realized what had happened to their companions, a leg swept low with enough force to trip two of the guards and the figure spun to face the remaining two. In a blur that Faye could barely follow, a new knife appeared in the hand of the dexterous woman that swiftly made its way crossed the necks of the two obviously bewildered guards. As those two hit the ground, the figure grabbed the two thrown daggers out of her victims' chests and walked calmly over to the two unconscious guards to finish the job. None of the guards had even made it to their guns.

Faye stared at the scene with wide eyes, paralyzed by what she saw. This was no high councilman, she shouldn't be here. She lowered her rifle and backed away from the edge of the roof, turning to make her way back to the stairs only to get a quick glance of the seventh guard and the hilt of the pistol that hit her on the side of the head. Her vision went black before she hit the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_The Morning After_

White noise filled Faye's ears and she struggled to remember what had happened. Her head throbbed with the effort of remembering. The noise became clearer now. It almost sounded like rain but it wasn't quite the same. Had it been raining earlier? She didn't remember being wet that night. Was it still night? Her mind moved sluggishly, her memories flowing slowly over her: a long set of stairs, the top of a building, a group of men standing in formation, a lone figure between them… Her eyes flashed open only to be closed again by the painfully bright light. _Wait, where am I?_ The previous night's events came rushing back into her head with a single painful throb. The docks, the airship, the woman in purple and…

She eased a hand up to touch the side of her throbbing head where the butt of a pistol had left a painful lump; the wound was bandaged. _Did they capture me?_ Faye opened her eyes again, slower this time to avoid the pain and they adjusted gradually to the bright room. Still blurry in their waking state, she squinted around the room to try and make out her situation before falling on a single figure. He was tall, broad shouldered and only a few feet away, yet he was not facing her. The white noise continued from his direction.

The surroundings felt familiar but this was not the time. She needed to get out of there before the guard noticed that she was awake. She dropped her legs off what she now realized was a simple cot. Eyes still blurry she lifted herself up off the cot only to have her knees give way to wariness and she fell to all fours with a loud thud. She cursed the loud noise as she heard footsteps coming her way. A strong hand guided her unbalanced body back onto the cot with an accompanied gruff voice, "You need to take it easy. It's not everyday you get hit on the side of the head with a gun."

The voice was familiar, a voice she hadn't heard in three months and hadn't expected to hear again. She focused her eyes on the face above her, "Jet?" she asked.

The concerned face of Jet Black and the backdrop of Faye's own apartment came into focus before her. "Get some rest," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "breakfast is almost ready."

Breakfast started quietly, Faye felt that the sooner she talked, the sooner the circumstances of her departure from the Bebop would be brought up and thrown in her face. Jet seemed not to care as he went about his business of piling food onto Faye's plate. Wasn't he angry with her? She had stolen his ship, not to mention half his cash. But here he was, taking care of her again and turning a cheek for the tenth time since she met him. How did he find her? No matter what she did she couldn't get rid of him. _How stubborn can a guy be?_

"I bet you're wondering how I found you," Jet said, finally breaking the silence.

"Actually I was wondering how you were able to make it to Mars City in that heap of trash you call a ship," Faye replied in her usual smug tone.

Jet gave her the slightest sour look before he replied in a calm voice, "The Bebop's still not flyin'. Luckily I was able to hitch a ride to the City and get my Hammerhead back after someone borrowed it and neglected to return it." Jet kept his eyes directly on Faye, his face still as calm as his voice. Faye however was having a harder time silencing the angry voice inside of her.

"So my trip to the city didn't pan out exactly as I had hoped," she bit back at Jet with a hint of malice in her voice. It took every ounce of strength she had to keep herself from diving over the table and wiping the calm look off his face. A continuous loop played in her mind, "He didn't help Spike, he _wouldn't_ help Spike…" over and over again, replaying the memory of Jet trying to stop her from leaving.

"You're just like Spike, always acting and never thinking," he sounded to Faye like a disappointed father, a disappointed father that she didn't need right now. "Never thinking of the consequences of those actions."

"But you chose to save me… why not him?" Faye asked, jumping right to the point.

"Spike didn't want my help," Jet replied immediately.

"I didn't ask for your help eith…"

"He didn't need my help," he interrupted; his hand moved up and gripped the edge of the table.

"That's just an excuse," Faye's voice lost all pretenses of courtesy and her voice rose to an angry level, "you just sat in your own little world of denial and let him walk out your door…"

"Look!" roared Jet, his hand was trembling now. "Spike knew what he wanted and he knew where to find it. When I saw him step into that cockpit, I saw a man who didn't plan on coming back. He was so obsessed with his past that he couldn't see the future I was holding right in front of him! Help him…? I tried to help him for years and he just kept walking right back into the past."

Faye's watery eyes glared at him and Jet surveyed her, leaned closer to her across the table, and his voice fell dangerously low: "I'm in denial? Do you think that if we had burst into that room and ran to his rescue that he would have welcomed our help? No Ms. Valentine, you're the one that's in denial."

At that moment, Faye snapped and all the anger and brooding that she had endured over Jet's apparent apathy flowed freely over her consciousness. She didn't know what she wanted to do but she knew it involved hurting Jet as much as possible. Standing up with enough force to knock the chair she was sitting in onto the ground, a shaky yet quick hand brought Faye's pistol out of its holster and level with Jet's lowered face. His eyes flashed quickly at the quivering barrel inches from his face before turning his gaze upwards to once again stare at Faye. Almost a minute passed. Finally, Jet broke the silence.

"Killing me won't bring Spike back. . . " Jet stated matter-of-factly.

Faye's features were contorted with anger, marring a typically attractive face. An ugly vein appeared over her right temple.

"Nor will killing all the Red Dragons."

_What does he know!_ "That's not why I'm doing this!" Faye cocked the gun.

"Then why are you doing it!" Jet yelled at her and she flinched at the unexpected explosion of sound. "Aside from mindless murder what possible purpose does this one woman crusade serve?"

Faye closed her eyes and stuttered, "I…I'm sorry Jet…" She began to squeeze the trigger and the sound of gunshots filled the drab apartment. A feeling of dread filled her, _Oh my God what did I do_, she thought.

But Jet's voice brought her out of the daze, "Faye! Get down!" Before she knew what was happening, Faye was being tackled to the ground by Jet. After they hit the ground she began to writhe her way out of Jet's grip before she realized what was happening. Bullets were flying through the small windows of the apartment and riddling the ceiling with holes. "We have to get out of here!" Jet yelled over the gunfire.

Faye and Jet turned onto their bellies and crawled across her apartment to the door. Opening the door slightly, Faye peaked her head around the door jamb in time to see two gunmen running around the corner at the end of the hall. Her pistol already out and ready, she shot one in the knee and the other in the chest, dropping both to the floor. "Come on," she led Jet.

Through the hallway and down the stairs, Faye ran cautiously, her pistol ready and the limping Jet following close behind her; his leg still maimed from being shot months before. Once on the ground floor she headed for the service entrance and the alleyway on the other side. To fire into her windows the gunmen must have been on the south side of the building. If they could get to the alleyway it would lead them to the street on the north side of the building.

The alleyway was clear and when Faye checked the corners of the building she saw that the street was also deserted. Moving onto the street Faye and Jet walked at a brisk pace away from the sporadic gunfire. But before they could get more than a block away, they heard a yelled, "HEY!" and looked back to see four men running in their direction.

They turned immediately down another alley. Faye broke into a run but turned to see Jet walking as fast as he could with his gimp leg. "We should split up," Jet gasped over the obvious pain. Faye, still unsure if she wanted to thank him or kill him said nothing. Jet made his way behind a dumpster and Faye followed. He pulled something out of his pocket. "Here, I was going to give this to you in the apartment but…" he trailed off and shoved the object in her hand; it was an envelope. He pointed to it, "Meet me there in three hours," Jet commanded her, "and cross to the other side of the street. I'll hold them here."

"How are you going to get away with that leg of yours?"

"Just go!" Jet said, pulling his own pistol out of its holster. The four men made it around the corner to the alley and both Jet and Faye opened fire. "GO!" he yelled. Faye fired the rest of her clip as she backed away from the fortified Jet, gave one last concerned look, then turned and ran out of the alley into the street.


End file.
